Cold Night For A Walk~

[Obscene Innocence]

Footsteps echoed along the abandoned street, the sound rebounding off of dark buildings and through even darker alleyways. A single streetlight flickered on and off, the electric buzzing sound a sporadic staccato offsetting the steady clipping footfalls.  Cold seemed to drift up from the ground, caressing the lonely cement, and the steel and glass outcroppings; almost like unnatural plateaus jutting up from an equally unnatural wasteland. The breeze, frigid tendrils, seemingly visible, they wrapped about any exposed flesh, fingers of intangible ice embracing the unwitting.

   Attempting to shrug off the brisk night air, the lone figure curled his fingers tighter against his cold palms, fingernails pressing against numbed flesh.  A thin knee length coal coloured jacket,  was all he wore against the weather, his hands shoved unceremoniously within the shallow pockets. Squared  jaw clenched to keep away the shivers, his misty green eyes peered up to the wisps of greyish clouds hanging about a sliver of bone white moon. Stars would have shown, were it not for the cityscape he prowled, the eternal lights keeping the heavenly ones from view.  The clothes he wore weren’t anything special, more like an attempts at the shadows from which he clung, an assortment of greys, from his boring button up shirt, a pair of not too tight, and not too baggy pants, to his average shoes.

   Shaking his head slightly, he tried to remove the faint dizziness that seemed to cling to him. Jet-black hair glistened as if wet in the dim lighting. Wild, it hung well past his shoulders and stopped in the middle of his back. Ever since he could remember he rebelled against taming his raven coloured mane. It haloed his youthful appearing face, the pale white a stark contrast to the black that surrounded it. His nose a bit long, though turned up. Lips, a shade darker than his skin, sat at an odd angle due to some sort of inner turmoil it seemed was pulled into a lazy grimace, the fullness hidden by the tension. All in all he looked very young, despite the anxiousness of his actions and expression, perhaps about twenty-three or four at the most.

   He’d always hated the cold, it seemed to follow him where ever he went, a mocking and bitter rival in a cruel world. It reminded him of times, locked away from the one he loved, the only one who ever understood him, amidst a freezing mass of crumbling stone. It seemed years passed, him merely trembling, tucked away in a rickety tower, while gusts blew through every crack and hole; the mortar that once filled the crevasses long since decayed.  

   The male closed his eyes, an attempts at closing out both the cold and the unpleasant memories that forever haunted his thoughts.  His brother’s words echoed in his head, a scared voice. The male’s footfalls slowed.

   “I-I-told them, you died. Slipped on the ice while trying to run away on Ruby.” That had been his favourite horse, a chestnut Arabian. He had actually fallen from his horse as she veered near a cliff edge. The snow was old, and it had rained before he ventured out, the white surface littering the land turning to a slick sheet of ice. Ruby had been lost over the side, he’d barely escaped the fall, being thrown from her back as she skidded.  “They, they, believed me, the carrion birds were flying over our heads, we’d disturbed them when the authorities pulled me out to the cliff to prove you were gone.” His brother Mathew, his twin actually, had always been the one to get him out of a sticky situation, and vice versa.
 
   A shiver ran it’s course over his skin as he let his emerald eyes flutter open, a tongue darting out to lick at pale almost lavender lips. He looked almost like a frozen body, his flesh a ghastly shade of alabaster. He needed some sort of nourishment, was long over due for a warm and full stomach. For the heat to permeate and fill his veins with sustenance. Just, too difficult after his accident to bother with such a thing. What he needed, was to find some sort of niche to tuck himself away into, with proper heat, and rest until weariness pulled at him to find a place to rest before the sleep consumed him and he slipped into darkness.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr looked up as slow steps hitting the concrete sidewalk far ahead of him registered, carried to him by the wind. He\'d become lost in his own thoughts again. He glanced around, brown eyes flickering with something akin to surprise as he registered where he was - or, rather, where he wasn\'t. He\'d spent much of his night at Risk, feeding, losing himself in the various forms of warmth and sustenance that had seduced him with their beseeching looks or forward offers. Three of them, there\'d been; he\'d taken a share of each and they had filled him but none had satisfied him.
 
A tension had made itself known in his broad shoulders - currently covered by a white business shirt, primly buttoned navy blue vest (that matched his suit pants, tucked-in tie and dress shoes, of course) and his black calf-length coat - of late, forcing him to adopt old habits again. Prowling the streets, one hand shoved in a deep coat pocket, the other holding his bejewelled walking cane, taking comfort in its steady tap as it struck the concrete with his every second step. The brisk breeze lifted the lapels of his unbuttoned coat briefly, ruffling his shoulder-length brown hair and causing him to look down to avoid the cold blast of unforgiving wind on vulnerable eyeballs as he walked on.
 
The tension, though... had him wound up without intent, like tendons straining to the point of snapping from teeth permanently gritted, an unconscious bracing, anticipating... resolution? Destruction? An end, anyway. There were too many loose ends, too much aswirl and battering at him for him to know whether it would be favourable or not,
 
Oh you know... you know it\'ll be a fucking meltdown of nuclear proportions
 
so he\'d taken again to walking the streets, the coastline, the city. Alone. Not searching for anyone in particular this time
 
Ben, though, what of him?
 
but seeking distractions, perhaps... looking for a way clear to understanding himself, his situation, what he should do... and avoiding it at all costs, because he knew deep down that he didn\'t want these answers. They would be final and heartbreaking and... scary.
 
The tension was fear, the knowledge of it was dread, the ignorance of it was delusion, the walking was inadequate. He didn\'t stop, though; like the first fiesty victim pursued relentlessly by the murderer in a horror film, he knew that the moment he really gave it some thought - the second that he stopped - he\'d have to acknowledge the very certain end and that was really all too hard, hard enough to inspire constant movement (and avoidance of his home especially).
 
Walk... he did. Until the breeze carried to him the scent of the one ahead of him, the undeniable frangrance of undeath, and then he faltered. It was only brief, though - he resumed his rhythmic pace quickly, but was now looking up from beneath his eyebrows, curious to see more clearly what the other looked like. Another kindred in this part of town so late could be hunting, returning home or merely walking, like him. They could be Ancient or fledgling or somewhere in between, like him. Yes, he was curious and he watched eagerly for them as he got closer (he\'d begun walking faster without thinking too much about it), his interest soon satisfied as a long-haired man came into full view.
 
The stranger didn\'t look to be faring too well; Kerr couldn\'t be certain, but he seemd almost... unsteady on his feet. Perhaps he was merely lost, though, and not sure which way to turn to go home? He looked like he hadn\'t fed in a while, but Kerr had never found pallor to be a definite thing; some kindred were simply extraordinarily pale and delicate as mortals and so had no hope of looking vigourous as vampires. Deciding he might be of some assistance if the other was, indeed, lost, the Irishman spoke in his gentle brogue once he was a couple of metres from the other.
 
"Evening," he began, smiling slightly as he looked into green eyes, "hope your night\'s been well?"
 
Although he was walking more slowly, he had no intention of stopping if the other made it clear he wasn\'t interested in being engaged in conversation. A grunt of acknowledgement would tell Kerr that he should take advantage of the width of the footpath and simply pass the other by. If he was lost or interested in talking, however, there was still time for Kerr to come to a natural halt before him; it all depended on how his opening question was taken. With the way the wind was swirling, it was likely the other would detect their similarities very soon also - if he hadn\'t already - and that should prompt a definite response, one way or the other.

[Obscene Innocence]

Anger, it drowned out so much. It could staunch sadness at least for a moment, it could dull the chill in the air. Yes, it was his tool for survival, to remain angry was to continue on. It helped dull the pain of the past, yes, he could live with it. Though, once that emotion was reached, it was difficult to notice what went on around you until it was nearly too late.

That was his problem, other than being incredibly weak, in his opinion of course it was much much more, a mockery, a tease. Not even the strength of a fledgling vampire, and once he had achieved his own power, it had been stripped from him once more. That was what he was recovering from, and it showed. Almost ten years now, to think of what he had looked like upon regaining his full form. He shuttered inwardly and outwardly, though that was stiff and rigid.

Ever scince coming to this City, the haunting memories had plagued him to no end. It was as if he was very close to something, but could not grasp it, it was just beyond reach and not yet tangible. Lost in these thoughts, and the burning fury, he didn\'t even notice the other coming so very close.

Usually, and it always seemed to be a miserable attempt. He would try to veer as far away from others like him. Running into them had been a horrible experience almost everytime. Not wanting another in their territory, and when he couldn\'t sense strength, only that they were near, and not even how near even, it was very very difficult to avoid.

Cursing himself, he pulled inwards, all those emotions that could be picked up on, perhaps masking his weaknessess instead of broadcasting them? No, he had never been taught anything, merely left to fend for himself, with only a tiny portion of the vampiric blood to keep him a bit more than a corpse. Too too much bitterness, too much self-pity, though he would never never admit to it. It was only an inner turmoil.

The street had narrowed quite a bit as he took stock of his surroundings. Closed signs on the buisiness type buildings, some lit up, others merely hanging peices of cardboard or plastic. There was an apartment complex of some sort. A very small alleyway across the two laned street, covered in darkness, he noticed a jumble of crates, rubbishbins, and perhaps a sleeping alleycat? There was also a strong scent in the air, it hung over that city smell of oil and thousands of people. The rich scent of coffee, and if there was a coffee house open nearby, the warmth would be much welcome, as well as being able to find some sort of nurishment within.

Assessment had slowed his pace even moreso, and thus when the other came across his path, he felt entirely ready for any sort of confrontation. Their eyes met, he could feel that gaze taking measure of him, dark brown eyes. He could almost taste the bitterness of tension rolling off of the other, and he cringed inwardly. There was much more, and being this close he could actually sense it rather well, even if his senses were numbed, sweat, human sweat, and blood, a mixture. The scent of it caused the hunger in him to be known once more and he licked his lips without even realizing it.

Then the other\'s mouth moved, an accent he hadn\'t heard in a long while, someone from the same part of the world as he. He would have grinned if he remembered how at the moment. It wasn\'t a threat, it wasn\'t even a command. A simple question, and he could feel the anger leaking away, like blood leaving his body, to pool about his feet. Then he shook himself mentally, stopping in his tracks, a half smile appearing on his lips, it almost looked forced, like a masked snarl with no sound.

"Actually.." The word was soft, not gruff or broken as he imagined it would be, and of course hinted with his own accent, British, a soft chuckle, "..it could have been a lot better." An eyebrow raised, where had the gentleman he\'d been so long ago gone? Well, the one he was in the proper public\'s eye, all those things had been long forgotten it seemed, just a hazy mist now. What had happened to the night? Hadn\'t it just started? Having lost that part of his evening should have shocked him, angered him perhaps, but it didn\'t, not anymore. He cocked his head to the side, taking in the way the other was dressed, soaking up everything he could from sight and sense, again he licked his lips, "Perhaps yours\' has been more eventful than mine?"

[Existentially Odd]

And so the time to stop his relentless moving had come, and he was glad of it as he paused before the other vampire, his smile lessening only because the man\'s words implied that it should.  Kerr toed his grounded walking cane\'s tip with his right foot negligently, swinging the top around in vague circles as he responded.

"Eventful?  I do suppose so; I visited Risk and came away full, at the least," he mused through vaguely pursed lips, stating the name of the vampire club as if he believed the other would know exactly where he was talking about.  Looking at his companion\'s tilted head had him feeling the urge to do the same but he was conscious enough of it to stop himself.  Such an action might be construed as mocking and that was the very farthest thought from his mind.

"The rest of the time I\'ve just been... taking the air," he confessed bemusedly, sparing a glance at their dreary surroundings.  He might have eyed more scenic landscapes in his past journeys, but this night hadn\'t yielded anything so aesthetically fruitful.  His companion was of far greater interest at this point anyway, he looked back down at the shorter vampire, giving him a quick look over.

Standing over six feet had made Kerr an oddity in the times of his mortality (and gained him more lovers than any gentleman of the period had a right to claim, due to both his skilled reputation and the desire to satisfy curious speculations that one so astoundingly tall would be... endowed in kind) and it gained him some attention even now; he was used to literally looking down on people, at the least.

"How about yourself?  What could have gone better?" he asked encouragingly, his smile returning beneath his moustache - though it remained wary, ready to turn into a look of shock or sadness if the wild-haired man before him imparted a tale of horror or misery.

[Obscene Innocence]

For a moment he merely stood there, taking in the words the other spoke. Risk? He had blinked, his only showing that what the other was talking of was unfamiliar. Though, in responce he nodded, in essance it wasn\'t something new, going among a large amount of mortals was the best way to avoid suspicion, it seemed that, the more there were the less they paid attention. It had been that way his whole life. Among the city streets in London, one could be killed and lay there an entire day before anyone noticed, even the screams would have been ignored, walk on by, ignore it, do not become involved. It had been the mentality of mortality from every point of the globe he had been on, even before he had become a vampire.

Standing still made him more aware of the frigidness around him, it crept up through the soles of his shoes and tore through his flesh, eating away at his bones. It was a good thing he no longer shivered, he could remember it well enough. As if someone had control of his insides besides him, tugging taught at the strings, and throwing him into painful convulsions. Jaw clenched painfully, skin prickled. He shook his head pushing aside the thought, and forcing a smile to appear on his full lips.

Where was that coffee place? He tilted a bit to look around the male before him, and spotted a lit sign a few blocks down, ah, there, it was a bookshop as well. An Antique Book Cafe, interesting. Well, it would be had he ever been intrested in reading. Righting himself he opened his mouth to speak, wondering if what the male had asked had been some sort of attempts at uncovering the reason for the ghosts of memories that he thought he kept so far burried.

"Nothing..that should.." Nothing that should concern you was what he was going to say. Nothing that would perhaps? No, he had closed his mouth on this statement, simply because of the fact that it was rude, and he had been trying so hard to let his true self come back, not the shadow of what he had become. "What I mean to say...It was horrid actually, I\'ve been lost all day.." Lost, aboard a ship in an ocean of madness, so very afraid that if the vessel were to spring a leak, or if he were to fall overboard it would be the end of everything he had held onto for so long. Another forced grin.

"Though I think I have found what I\'ve been looking for." For the moment at least, warmth companionship for just a bit, that was all he needed. Something to help him cling to reality. "I feel ridiculous really.." His accent had thickened some what, being around someone with one remotely similar, "..I\'ve lost something as well, and have had a terrible time finding it.." ..finding him.. "I suppose being lost and searching for a lost item is a futile venture on my part?" A small chuckle, it felt as if someone were twisting a rapier within his gut at the effort. "Would you care to join me?" Canting his head in the direction of the coffee shop, he merely waited for a responce to his moronic flow of words. Once the fount had broken, there had been no way to repair it, simply hold on and try not to let the water get too deep, right?

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr got the distinct impression that his companion was speaking metaphorically (though it was ironic that he\'d assumed the man literally lost and he\'d begun the conversation anticipating such... only to find it true in a whole different sense) and so he abandoned any hint of a smile and watched him seriously.  The Briton seemed at a loose end of some sort - to say the least - and Kerr found himself empathising without knowing details.  His gaze followed the direction of the other\'s head when he indicated the bookstore and he nodded.

"Certainly," he agreed in a quiet voice, taking a few steps in the shop\'s direction so that his willingness was obvious but not moving so far or fast that he left the other vampire behind.  "My name\'s Kerr, by the way," he added once they were on their way, "And I completely understand the feeling of being lost while searching for what is lost.  I\'m chasing my tail in such a manner at the moment, also - but I would argue that the searching is not futile.  Without it, there would be nothing to do but resign and... I - for one - value my sanity far more than that."

He glanced at the other man, his closed lips moving slightly as his teeth and tongue co-ordinated biting movements on the stud within, a frown of rumination marring his forehead.  In a way, it almost sounded like he was attempting to compare stories with the younger vampire, but that wasn\'t the case and he could only hope that his words of reassurance would be taken in the spirit they were uttered.  He did know what feeling lost and losing (someone) was like, though - and he wasn\'t against sharing details, especially if that was likely to help the coal-haired gentleman at his side.

[Obscene Innocence]

Cloudy green eyes widened for a brief instant, not even long enough for anyone to take notice. Had he revealed too much of himself unwittingly? Some of that inner turmoil bubbling to the surface and escaping...it was not something he had meant to do at all. No...he consciously reeled in those mixed emotions, those fragments of memory that were so close to the surface, putting up the walls and boundries he had learned to build for himself against others like him, who could read these. Of course, without knowing if it was a futile venture on his part. All this was masked over with a soft polite smile.

His footfalls fell instantly into step with the other\'s, though they swayed a bit, the hunger still ate at him, and he would let it for the time being, warmth came first. The words Kerr said fell on his ears as a sort of reprimand almost, something he took abrasively, and would have snapped at had he had full grasp of the bitter vampire he had become over the years. No, tonight he was more of the youth he had lost on that fateful January night. The other was grasping on the edges of his mind, pulling himself up into place, like a second conscience almost.

Had etiquette won over he would have offered a hand at the introduction, a proper gentleman handshake, though the cold had the upperhand, and instead he offered a nod. "Samuel." It was an answer of some sorts, though the surname didn\'t fall into place, it had been lost long ago, and rarely came into the picture. His name meant nothing anymore, no longer holding any weight as it once had when he\'d gotten into little tiffs within the streets of London.

It was only a short distance to the cafe, and as they neared he took in the quaint almost ramshackle look of it. A youth stood near the door, blowing smoke into the wind, as she smoked the last drags from her cigarette, not even glancing in their direction. All the better in his opinion. He wondered idily  how many people lay beyond the door. Senses honed, he could have picked up the scents that came from each individual, a bit of emotional residue, though it was all a haze, and he could gleen nothing, even in this close proximity.

"Shall we then?" Without waiting for a responce he grasped the knob and opened the door, flinching slightly at the brassy jingle of a door bell over head, announcing their entrance. Only one or two people looked up. The teen who stood behind the counter, her fushca dyed hair, a stark contrast to the pale sunstarved skin of her face. She offered no smile, and he noted her name, Randie, scrawled on a name tag, with various stickers covering the once pure white surface.

He had stepped in, glancing around the area. It was comfortable, very warm. Couches and chairs were placed helter-scelter about the room, worn, patched in some places, or displaying stuffing between tears in the missmatched coushins. A few patrons were sprawled on these or at the few tables, reading, writing, drinking coffee, one was talking in hushed tones on a cell phone. Books, lined the back area, in aisles, a man browsed a section of antique books. Near the front of the shop there was a selection of newer tomes, magazines, those sci-fi novels, and romance novels, as well as fantasy and the like.

"I do as well." It was a half-assed answer to the statement made, what seemed like ages ago, as he peered about for a vacant place to sit. Pondering whether or not he had any cash to purchase a coffee to warm his hands, and perhaps sip off of, just to feel that queer too thin, too hot liquid rush over his tongue.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr turned to look back at Samuel when he finally spoke, having been looking around to see where would be a good place to sit. It took him a moment to connect the comment with his own, recalling after a moment that he\'d mentioned valuing his sanity and so his companion did as well, apparently. It was good to know that they were of the same mindset on the important matters, at the least.
 
Because the gaze he met seemed troubled still, Kerr again took the lead and walked over to the nearest table with two chairs at it. Apart from the fact he preferred to converse with someone new eye to eye, it was slightly removed from all the other patrons and so they would be able to keep their voices low and not be overheard (the fact that they could have kept their voices low and still be heard by each other didn\'t escape him, but the mortals in the room would have thought them strange if the two sat there with no apparent noise issuing from them, simply staring intently at one another).
 
Stepping to the wooden seat that generally faced the door (so that he wasn\'t impeding Samuel\'s progress in any way), the brunette removed his coat and carefully folded it on the back of his chair, revealing the fact that he wore a navy suit vest, pants and maroon tie, but not the jacket over his white shirt as he sat. He smiled vaguely towards his companion then, expecting him to be taking the seat opposite him and not intending to leave the first of the conversation up to him but rather wanting them both to be settled before he said anything more.

[Obscene Innocence]

He was actually glad the other was taking the lead. For the first time scince thier inital encounter (besides of course conversation), Samuel could follow and attempt to drain the dizziness that swirled about inside his head as they made their way to Kerr\'s intended destination. What exactly they might do once they arrived was another matter, he did however want to get a drink to warm the interminable cold that had clung to his hands for so very long. The problem with his mind, in his opinion, was that deep dull fog that enshrouded itwas something he blamed entirely on fatique and hunger, putting aside and nearly completely repressing the fact that it was more so the need to heal than anything else.

Had they made introductions yet?

There she was, beautiful still, even after so many years left to rot, indoors, to prepare their meals, to protect them against a ranting father. Not allowed anymore to ride and to hunt as she had once loved. The obsidian haired woman, with her perfect oval face, and those soft saphire eyes, that had never held anything but love for him. When he was very young she used to tell him stories of how she was one of the Fairy-folk, and he could see that, even if it had been fiction. Charis, his mother.

Though the porcelene face was now marred, blood spattered, crimson flecks with tear tracks running through them in places, forming delicate pinkish strips that extended to her chin, he should reach up to wipe them..

"What have you done Samuel?"

A mental shake and his thoughts cleared somewhat, he desperately needed to feed, that much was obvious, it took an iron will not to cry out just then. The scene from so long ago faded and his own home melted into their current surroundings, so very surreal, now it was the coffee shop..yes. Why now? Why was this all coming back all of a sudden? It had been scince he\'d first arrived here in this city.

He managed a friendly smile. He was sitting now. When had he taken his seat?

"So tell me.." The voice was so alien to him. It was almost a purr, the rich scent of blood permeated past the thick aroma of coffee, and the aged smell of ancient tomes. "What is this Risk you speak of.." as if nothing had just now happened, yes push it aside, that was long ago..he was truly interested.

Tea, he had decided. A nice peppermint tea would be lovely, the mint smell would be a nice enhancement to the comforting and enticing scent that wafted about him. It would warm his hands, he glanced down at the hand that lay splayed on the table, palm down. It would be...

His hand was covered in blood, it was pressed against the cool too pale face of his mother, it was her blood..and his.. He didn\'t have to look behind him, at the man laying a short distance away. Already the sickening sweet smell permeated the air. The stench of too much alcohol, and of death. Like when they slaughtered the hogs. It was an unflattering position for his father to be laying in, legs splayed apart to both sides, face down, his nose smashed against the wooden floorboards, his swollen purple tongue flopped out drenched in his own thin blood, and the visable eye partially opened. He even looked very much like a hog at the moment.

His mother..She lay very still now, against him, her hand clutching his coat even now, tight fingers locked and frozen in place. Her head had fallen back, as if her neck had been broken, like a delicate rose that had been picked, the stem now limp, after her heart had pumped it\'s last, forcing her blood out of the gaping wound that had been inflicted upon it. The blood..all over the floor, it soaked into his pants. It coated the sword his mother had given him only four days ago..the twenty-fourth, the eve of Christ\'s birth..

The chair fell to the floor loudly, as he stood up hurredly, and he scrambled to  stand it back up, it had startled more than one occupant of the cafe. "One..one moment, I will get us some tea." With that he turned and made his way to the counter. Rushing to order, paying and, letting the moment he was away fill him so that he could speak to this other without that haunting memory in his eyes. Returning he set, albeit shakily the tray down, tea kettle and a basket of a few different varieties of tea down, and slumped back into his chair, his eyes merely staring at the two tea cups sitting there. Then taking a deep breath he poured the hot water into both and offered one to the other male, the smile wiped from his lips, they now were set into a determined solid pale line.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr\'s emotional state of mind made him more vulnerable to Samuel\'s imagery - either that, or the guy was projecting like a motherfucker.  The Irishman\'s mouth dropped slightly - as if he might ask what the Hell was going on - the first time he was sideswiped by a vision of a beautiful, blood-stained woman.  With it came the overwhelming feelings coursing through the one remembering this moment, a mind-boggling moment of sensory overload that left Kerr stunned and weak.  His mouth still hung, no words coming to him to make him less conspicuous in his shock, eyes wide and staring at the man opposite him.

Samuel, it seemed, was used to dealing with such strong and vivid recollections, for he then smiled and asked about Risk.  The image died and the shop swam back into focus slowly.  Finally, Kerr licked his lips and closed his mouth before he summoned an answer from the depths of his confusion.  Who was the woman?  Someone Samuel had killed?  There seemed to be a strong emotional connection to her, a devastation beyond a trifling kill... maybe she wasn\'t his victim after all?  The blood in the image was inconclusive.  "Risk?  It\'s a club f-for kindred... " he managed to answer dazedly, still trying to process everything.

He was even more vulnerable to the second \'attack\', buffetted anew by the same scene, but it expanded this time.  He saw nothing through his own eyes, no coffee shop customers, not his companion; so powerful were Samuel\'s projections, Kerr was lost with him in that time, that place, and he realised now that it was Samuel\'s mother - and father - he was seeing.  Both dead but not killed by a vampire by the amount of blood that was about.  Not an experienced one, anyway.  Was Samuel even kindred at this point, when this attack occurred?  Kerr could get a feel for that, just... a sword...

All of a sudden, the other vampire stood with a clatter, replaced his chair and scurried off, leaving Kerr dizzy with the sudden onset of reality once more.  He merely sat, blinking stupidly at the table before him, as he theorised about the situation he\'d just \'witnessed\' and drew some conclusions about the man he\'d met on the street.  When a cup holding hot water suddenly appeared within his vision, Kerr looked up, suddenly angry.

"What the fuck are you doing to yourself?" he demanded, stunned that the vampire could allow himself to be such a slave to these memories, yet continue blithely about his business as if they were nothing to him.  As if he\'d lived with them so long, he no longer questioned why he thought of them or tried to work through it all.  He just surrendered, became their victim, and muddled by like he thought it would make a difference eventually.  He claimed to value his sanity; Kerr doubted it strongly.

This sudden insight into the man\'s fragile state of mind gave Kerr a clarity of vision he hadn\'t had before.  He\'d seen, but he hadn\'t bothered to analyse at any great length how bedraggled and undernourished the other really looked, how close to dropping he was.  Dropping everything, even out of existence.  He frowned at the younger, a sense of urgency causing him to lean forward in his chair slightly, wanting to help the other immediately.

[Obscene Innocence]

Yes, he had experienced these visions for most of his two-hundred or more years as a vampire. Though, only recently they had grown stronger, perhaps it was to repent for the crime? He wondered if all vampires had to deal with trials like this sooner or later. They had caused him to weaken signficantly, though, if he didn\'t continue to move on, continue to search...what then? All would be lost, and for once it felt as if he were so very close.

His own senses had dulled significantly, he didn\'t realize that Kerr had been affected what-so-ever by his lapses into the past. Normally he was (in his own opinion, though he had no basis for comparision really) very good at putting up a  wall between himself and what he thought and felt. At the moment, hunger, fatigue and pain were battling with this important skill.

He had nodded at the explaination for Risk, trying very hard to quell the pictures   of the past that kept ghosting to the surface. Then, he was back to the table once more, eyes on the water, hand clasped tightly around a packet  of peppermint tea. It was then the other said something, and it took him a moment to register.

Looking up at Kerr, he could see it, that almost haunted look. So...he had seen? For a moment he closed his eyes, collecting himself, silently apologizing. "What am I doing?" It didn\'t make sense...was he doing this to himself? Not that he thought he was. Long ago he had found a way to neatly store away these images of the past, and tuck them into a niche in the back of his mind. Something he\'d come in contact with had ripped these carefully sealed packages and left them scattered about his mind to wreak havoc.

"I-I am terribly sorry if you had any sort of glimpse or..overspill from.." He waved his hand about in an almost pained gesture indicating what he\'d meant.  He didn\'t think, or know even, that it was possible for another like himself to actually witness these things just as he had, as he had never been able    to do anything of that sort himself.

[Existentially Odd]

"Overspill?  For fuck\'s sake man, I was practically living it.  Now, I admit that I\'m pretty damn adept mentally and am possibly more prone to picking up than others might be, but you were so caught up in it, it just about swallowed you.  You were projecting because of that.  I get the feeling that you\'ve been less than attentive to your own needs, for you to be so weak.  When was the last time you fed - and fed well?" the Irishman frowned, all business now.

It didn\'t make sense to him, that Samuel wouldn\'t maintain his physical strength, in order to better bear up under the emotional havoc his memories were wreaking upon him.  Kerr wanted to ask the exact nature of the scene he\'d witnessed and what significance it held, but there were priorities to be attended to first.  It hardly seemed a sensible plan to be sitting in a coffee shop with tea when that would not help the vampire in the slightest.  As far as Kerr could tell, he needed a good, satisfying meal and then someone to listen to his story, so that he could let some of the angst out.

[Obscene Innocence]

Samuel\'s eyes widened a bit, taking a deep breath, it felt like an eternity. The man sitting across from him actually felt nearly exactly as he had only moments before? It was horrid, and he suddenly felt great remorse because of it. "I..I apologize..this is all I can offer." The words were a bit slurred, the accent broken for the moment, he was shocked, he was weak, and he did needed to feed. But the warmth in here was much more needed in his mind, actually hunting down and killing someone to feed was far from his thoughts. Much too difficult..really.

Perhaps it was best to simply leave Kerr? Solitude once more instead of wracking someone else with his guilt stricken memories. Why were they so intense lately? Was he close to finding what he\'d been searching for? Could that even be a reason. His heart seemed to throb in his chest and then clench at the thought. No..

He stood, this time making sure the chair didn\'t fall in his wake, though it made a loud scuffing against the floorboards. "I..I\'ll leave you, I\'m greatly appreciative of the company, but you do not deserve to bear witness to..to.." he shook his head and made to turn, hesitating slightly. To be lost again in the cold..it was...daunting.

[Existentially Odd]

"Wait, no, don\'t go," Kerr said urgently, standing also - prepared to follow Samuel out of the coffee shop if he had to, but rather hoping they could both simply sit and discuss the man\'s problems civilly - and holding a hand towards the other vampire in a subconscious effort to detain him.  He spoke rapidly in case his own movement wasn\'t enough to convince the Brit that he was sincere in wanting to help.

"I don\'t mind, honestly.  It\'s not an insult - I\'m just concerned about you," he hissed, hoping his voice wouldn\'t carry to anyone but Samuel\'s ears.  "Please; sit.  I want to help you, not send you off in this condition."  His expression bespoke nothing but heartfelt appeal as he stood there, hovering tensely over the table and hoping like hell that the younger vampire would sit and let him help as he\'d said he wanted to.